Chapter 47: Wiress Jansen
A/N: District Three have their fourth Victor, and this time it's another canon Victor from Catching Fire! We all know she was an incredible genius, we all know that she suffered from the trauma of her Games, and most important of all, we all sadly know how she died in the end. But there's one thing we know nothing about: how she won her Games, and what exactly made her so traumatised. So here she is, in a chapter in which she takes centre stage! She's just a few zaps, explosions and contraptions away from 'glory'...
P.S. Thanks Willuna for the arena idea! Candy land would be a little difficult to write about, but I'll try to use it in the (hopefully) near future! :)
omg tysm peachiebumblebee for your ideas! Unfortunately, I have all the names of the Victors locked down, but I'll definitely use those arena ideas and personality ideas! (I used the cat cafe idea here, thanks for sharing it!)
P.S.S. Blue Moon news: MetheFanatic19 has reserved the D2 female!
Katniss gritted her teeth. "I-I should have kept an eye for her. I should have seen Gloss coming. I-"
Peeta laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her stammers. "Kat, it wasn't your fault. There was nothing we could've done."
Katniss swallowed. "It drives me crazy, thinking about it. I just can't shove it out of my head."
Peeta pursed his lips. "Yeah, I still have nightmares about her death. And Chaff's too. It's just that, if I had been a little quicker, neither of them-" He paused, then shook his head. "No, I just can't think about it. We just have to forgive and forget."
Katniss slunk into her seat, staring longingly at the ceiling. "I just wish it were that simple."
Wiress Jansen
District Three
Aged 16
7 Kills
24 HOURS WITH WIRESS JANSEN
MIDNIGHT, 00:00
I stared at the wall, rocking back and forth on my old, mouldy mattress. There's an old, broken clock on that wall, one that had been in my family since long before the Dark Days. It shattered after a riot in the aftermath of the Games where that boy Luxe won, but no one had ever thought of replacing it or even taking it down. It's just there, and it's there to stay. "Tick, tock," I muttered, mimicking the sounds that the clock had once produced in a long-forgotten time. It's midnight, and I should be asleep, but I had a pretty bad case of insomnia. It was difficult for me to fall asleep. People told me it was simple, just close your eyes and you'll drift off to sleep. I wished that things could be so trivial. In the night sky, there are hardly any stars. Of course, there aren't. This is District Three, the land of extreme pollution. No stars could possibly be seen from here. I sighed, rubbing my tired, sore eyes. I needed to sleep. Screw my insomnia! I collapsed on my mattress and waited for sleep to arrive, like a silent ghost through the night. In the distance, I could hear the sounds of metal grinding in the factories. My uncle Gage is in one of those factories, working his ass off for me in his night shift. Ever since my parents died when Hooper's Mechanics burnt to the ground, he's been taking care of me, since he was my only remaining family member. Uncle Gage was always working, so naturally, he and I didn't really have much time to bond or even talk, but in the few instances that we had done so, he was always nice and never abused or mistreated me, much unlike that boy in my class, Robo, who lived with his horrible uncle and sadistic aunt. He always came to class with a ton of bruises and cuts and occasionally even a fractured bone or a dislocated joint and maybe a few burns and stab wounds. Life here was pretty dreary, unlike what that Victor from Ten, John, seemed to think. The minutes passed, and soon, at long last, I was able to sleep.
Not that the realm of nightmares was any better, though.
1 A.M. 01:00
I was fourteen, and pretty grateful to be able to reach this age. Robo hadn't, however. His uncle and aunt had finally gone insane, and burned him alive in the middle of the night, in an old, abandoned computer factory on the outskirts of Mecha Town. Once the Peacekeepers found out, they shot the despicable couple to death in front of the Justice Building, but never made any attempts to recover Robo's body.
I did, though.
It was only right, that his body was brought back and buried in an appropriate cemetery. It would be what he wanted. So, in the middle of the night, at one in the morning, I slipped out of my house and raced for the abandoned PedroCom factory. Uncle Gage wouldn't be home until eight in the morning, so that wasn't an issue I had to worry about. The patrolling Peacekeepers never dared to venture near the PedroCom factory. The ghost stories and rumours that surrounded this abandoned, crumbling, ruin of a building unnerved even this tough bunch, keeping them away from the haunted factory. There was an old rumour, that the ghost of the notorious serial killer Cyborg Burton, the wretched factory owner who had murdered over sixty innocent children and their parents, still lingered in this building. He was, after all, the co-founder of PedroCom, along with Pedro Ainsley, his fellow co-worker who he drowned in that long-forgotten Lake Michigan. Fifty years after his death, people often arrived at this factory, only to mysteriously disappear before reappearing exactly one week later in front of the Justice Building, with the initials 'C.B.' engraved on their torn-up corpses. One week, just like the duration of Cyborg's trial. It was eerie, but I wasn't one to believe in these silly ghost stories. Besides, there had been no recorded instances of such killings since the Thirteenth Games. Maybe the sight of Nikola claiming the crown was too much for this fabled 'ghost'. I ventured in, creaking the door open. I was here for Robo's body and only that. I would bury it in the Mechanics' Cemetery not too far away from here, and then slip back into my room. It was a simple plan. But it failed exactly three minutes after I stepped foot into the factory floor. I wandered around a broken, charred conveyor belt, one that had not been touched for decades. Suddenly, I heard a low whisper. "Hello, there..." someone seemed to whisper, the voice barely intelligible and swept away by a sudden breeze, rustling several crumpled leaflets and leaves on the floor. I froze. What was that? Turning around slowly, I caught a blur of motion from a corridor not too far away. I gulped, my fingers turning clammy. Sweat trickled down my face as I slowly backed away. A light flickered above me. Wait, that wasn't possible! Those lights hadn't been turned on since... Oh gosh. Could there actually be a ghost?
"N-no, Wiress," I stammered. "Ghosts aren't real, Wiress."
"Ahhh," the wind seemed to howl, in a low, condescending tone. A thud echoed throughout the corridors, and a leaflet suddenly flew into my face. I yelped, ripping it off, only to realise what it depicted. I gasped, instantly dropping the leaflet to the ground. CYBORG BURTON: WANTED, DEAD OR ALIVE. Cyborg, could his ghost really be here? My fingers were shaking and my knees buckled from fear. "Cyborg..." the voice seemed to whisper, the voice drawing closer and closer with every passing second. A ceiling fan creaked and fell to the ground with one large smash! sound. A dark, unknown object zoomed from one room to another, creating an unmissable whirl of motion. That was it. Forget about Robo's body, if I didn't get out of here fast, my body would lie right next to his! I bolted away, the last sound I heard from the haunted old factory being something that almost resembled Robo's scream, and the sound of flames licking against something.
2 A.M. 02:00
It was my fifteenth birthday, but I didn't feel like celebrating. I had managed to sleep, only to be woken up by the deafening sound of a fire alarm. I bolted right up, half-annoyed by this rude awakening and half-grateful that those nightmares of being chased by tracker jackers were finally over. Peering out the window, I gasped. One of the factories near our house was on fire. Thankfully, it wasn't the one Uncle Gage worked in, but still, it was pretty close. But the wind wasn't blowing in the direction of his factory. It was blowing in the direction of this house. I realised it too late. The flames engulfed my house, trapping me inside. I screamed, fumbling around through the peals of smoke for a door. Instead, I slammed headfirst into a table. The next thing I knew, something big, something hard, something really heavy, fell on top of my head. The pain felt like being dunked with hot, burning embers. But at least it was quick, vanishing just like my vision as I drifted into the world of dreams. The last thing I saw was that old, broken clock falling to the ground and shattering to a million pieces, the flames devouring it like hungry vultures.
3 A.M. 03:00
The nightmares plagued my unconscious mind. The ghost of my classmate Maurice's recently executed uncle, floating closer and closer until he was practically touching me, hissing, "You silly little girl..."
Then came the old janitor, the one who had died of lung cancer only months ago, wielding a spiked broomstick and charging at me, letting loose a shriek that could easily terrify a banshee. I screamed, covering my face. "I HATE YOU!" he barked in his coarse voice.
Right as he was about to strike me, however, he vanished into thin air and was replaced by Robo's ghost, a little mistier and not quite as clear as the previous two ghosts. Robo screamed and wailed as flames licked his burnt skin. His eyes shone with terror as his skin began to melt like ice in a furnace. He stumbled towards me. "W-Wiress-" he croaked but it was too late. The skin was practically ripped off his face as he melted into a sickly, red puddle. I gasped, backing away from this horrific mess but before I could react, something else happened.
The ghost of my parents, almost invisible, nearly completely faded, but still unmistakable, formed from the remains of Robo's melted ghost. They glared murderously at me, as if they had forgotten that I was their daughter. "Kill..." Mom murmured, her voice almost a faint whisper, nearly silenced by a large gust of wind that swept by, sweeping me off my feet, screaming, begging for mercy, towards a large rock, one that resembled Cyborg's face, and into the dark shadows of his gaping mouth, swallowed by a profound darkness that echoed with sinister laughter and seemed to stretch on for eternity...
4 A.M. 04:00
I was dead. I had to be dead. But no, instead, I woke up in a nice, comfy bed. A nice, comfy bed? Since when did those things exist in a place like District Three? "I'm in heaven," I murmured, the sudden realisation coming to mind. I could see my parents again! I could...
"No, you're not in heaven," someone's voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned, groaning as a sharp, incredible pain pierced through my hip. I rubbed my sore hip and my eyes focused on the man before me. Instantly, my eyes widened. Standing in the doorway of a lovely little room was none other than Nikola Johnson, District Three's first-ever Victor. He stood there, adjusting his lopsided glasses, giving me a gentle look. I froze. I was always a shy girl, one who barely knew how to articulate her words. Now, in the presence of a District celebrity, I had no clue what to say.
"Thank-" I began, but then, right as I was about to say 'you', my lips abruptly stopped moving. I stared blankly ahead, as if stuck in a daze, although the gears in my head continued to crank, I found myself frozen like a statue, unable to say or do anything else.
Nikola frowned, raising a concerned eyebrow. "Wiress? You okay?"
I wanted to say, "Yes," but the words remained stuck in my mouth, like prisoners, unable to escape their uncanny prison.
Nikola walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder. Then, my organs began to snap back to life, and I blinked, startled by this episode. "Uhh..." I mumbled, my cheeks reddening from embarrassment as Nikola gave me a funny, quizzical look.
"I think that iron damaged your nervous system," Nikola told me. "You remember, right? The iron falling on your head?"
I nodded dumbly. "I think-" There it was. It happened again. I couldn't bring myself to say 'so'! I gritted my teeth in frustration. Gosh, this wasn't good, this wasn't good at all!
Nikola gave me a concerned look. "Well, I guess the effects are already kicking in."
I gulped. Staring out into the dark, early hours of morning, I wondered if my life could get any worse.
5 A.M. 05:00
It was the morning of the Reaping. Unlike most other Districts, our Reapings took place in the early hours of morning, so that they wouldn't interfere with our tight schedules. Only a few people, including Uncle Gage, worked between four in the morning and seven o'clock, so this was the ideal time to hold the Reapings. It had been this way since Brutus's Games, after which we got a work schedule reshuffle, which only served to give us far longer hours and more intensive labour. I stood in the square, in my Reaping dress, a black, cotton one, a family heirloom that had been in my family since the Second Games, when one of my relatives had stolen it from a Peacekeeper's daughter. It wasn't very pretty, and neither was I, after all, I hardly ever got a chance to bathe, but hey, it was probably better than what those poor kids from Twelve wore. In the faint light of dawn, the District looked ominous, with only a few ancient street lamps to light the square up. I could almost picture Cyborg's ghost wandering the dark, foul alleys with that distinct factory stench, searching for his next victim for all eternity. I shuddered just at the mere memory of that. Our District's escort, Evander Lijnders, stood on stage with his usual mustard yellow wig, one that was supposed to match the colour of our arena wear, but looked frankly ridiculous on the purple-skinned man with a tattoo of a wooden bow on his left cheek. He squinted across the crowd, peering through the darkness to properly see our faces. He was a newbie, so he wasn't used to this kind of Reaping atmosphere. I stood in the square, all alone, of course, since I was a lonely girl with zero friends whatsoever. I didn't mind being alone, it was good sometimes to just be able to monologue in my head in peace. Plus, no one would call me a freak for having those stupid mental disorders. Loneliness was bliss. Evander did all the normal stuff, you know, read out the Treaty of Treason, play some propaganda clips, all the usual stuff that no one pays attention to, especially not me. In fact, I was starting to doze off right at the end. Ugh, I was so freaking tired. The factory owners made us work overtime last night. They were from the Capitol, they didn't care about our wellbeing at all. My insomnia hadn't gotten much better, but I hadn't slept in ages. My eyes felt heavy for the first time in my life, and slowly, but surely, I drifted off to sleep, right there and then, in the Reaping Square. My eyes squeezed shut and I stood there, fast asleep. A bright light appeared to flicker, the start of my journey into the land of dreams. An orange cat sat before me, its black stripes making it resemble a tiger cub, hissing and waving its claw at me. I was about to question this quirky dream, when all of a sudden, someone shook my shoulder roughly. I woke to a start, and gazed around me. "Huh?" Everyone was staring in my direction with a mixture of pity and relief. The girl beside me, I think her name was Nadia, gave me a concerned look.
"Wiress, you've been Reaped."
6 A.M. 06:00
I sat in the room in the Justice Building, gazing blankly ahead as a tear slid down my face. Oh, gosh, was this really happening? This can't be, no, no! I was going into the arena! The door swung open and Uncle Gage burst in, a wild, petrified look in his eyes as he grabbed my shoulders, his lips quivering helplessly. "Wiress, please, you have to try," he told me, a firm but fearful toe in his voice.
I sniffled, wiping away a tear but more come rushing down like a leaky tap. "I-I'm-" I couldn't bring myself to say 'scared'. It's that stupid thing where I blank out, it's happening again! I could only stare blankly ahead, unable to move, unable to say anything as Uncle Gage gritted his teeth, his fingers twitching and drumming against my shoulders.
"I know you're scared, Wiress," he told me. "But please, you can do this! You have a fabulous memory, and you have an exceptional IQ, plus you can work on traps, right? You can win this, just like Nikola, Gadget and Beetee all did."
I shook my head, snapping out of my blank moment. "N-no, I can't do this, I-"
"Wiress," Uncle Gage implored, his voice now rife with desperation. "There's always hope. Just try, please!"
I nodded, but deep inside, I knew that no one could bring me home. I was going to die in the arena and I had to accept that sooner or later.
7 A.M. 07:00
The sheer beauty, the sheer luxury of the train, it all captivated me. The sparkling chandeliers, the pristine red velvet carpet, the shimmering blue glasses and cups on the table, the antique silverware with gold linings, the tapestries on the roof, just everything about the train in comparison to the dark, dreary, smoke-filled District I had left behind possibly for all eternity, it was mind-blowing. The only blemish on this train was the presence of a large, disturbing portrait of President Snow with Draco Hadley, that god-awful Victor from Two, by his side, flashing their usual serpentine sneers. It was an imposing sight, hung high on the walls of the train in an antique frame with intricate patterns. I shook my head and focused my attention on the Victors before me, Nikola, Gadget and Beetee, and my District partner, Tangent Tan, a short seventeen-year-old boy with a shock of black hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes. He drummed his fingers on the table, whistling to himself. It made me wonder, how on earth he could be so calm and so happy even in the face of death? Tangent grinned at me. "Well, so you're my District partner, huh?"
I nodded, glancing towards Nikola for help. I was never the best at talking, and I just wanted to remain silent and pretend that I didn't blank out every time I tried to speak. Nikola gave me a slight, understanding nod and turned to Tangent. "That's correct, Tangent. Now, we need to allocate mentors. Who do you want to be your mentor, Tangent?"
Tangent gazed thoughtfully at the three Victors, before replying, "I'll take Beetee. Seems like a good lad."
Beetee sighed, clearly hating the thought of mentoring another tribute to his grave, but he had no choice and simply got up and followed Tangent to his room, leaving me with Nikola and Gadget. "I-uhh, I-ll take N-" I swallowed, struggling to form the words in my mouth. Gesturing towards Nikola, I hoped that I got my point across.
Gadget heaved a sigh of relief, the dead look still frozen in her eyes even after all those years. "Good luck then, Nikola." With that, she got up and left us alone.
I stared at Nikola, tracing the bile as it went down my throat. "I want to go home," I murmured softly.
Nikola grabbed my hand, giving me a gentle but firm look. "You will go home, Wiress."
I bit my lip. "How do I win?"
A small smile spread across the middle-aged Victor's face. "Traps. A lot of electric traps."
8 A.M. 08:00
When we arrived at the Capitol, I couldn't help but gawk at everything before me. It was magnificent! The buildings, the streets, everything was ever so grand! The train reached the shiny, recently renovated platform, which was far bigger and far grander than the platform back home in District Three, which was basically just a dismal, concrete slab next to a bunch of dilapidated tracks. A glistening, bronze roof hung above the platform, with bright lights that I knew to be manufactured back in our District attached underneath them. Across the platform, there were several advertising boards advertising a wide range of products, everything from tribute action figures and rubber swords meant to resemble the ones the Careers often used to fishing gear and kites for recreation and leisure. On the platform was a humongous crowd of screaming, cheering Capitolian citizens, several of whom were waving large banners with huge '3's on them. One of them even had a huge Nikola Johnson balloon that frankly looked ridiculous and made him look like a big fat baby. Tangent couldn't hide his snickers when he saw it and neither could Beetee. "I see you've got some fans, Nikola," Tangent giggled.
Nikola rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up, will you?"
The train came to a halt and Evander herded us out, practically singing, "Time to meet the lovely fans, dearies!"
Tangent groaned. "Will you quit it? Those 'fans' aren't lovely and we're not your dearies!"
Evander's eyes burned with fury, but Beetee grabbed his arm and hauled him out into the screaming crowd. I followed closely behind. The bright lights of the camera, the way they chanted my name, all of it made me super uncomfortable. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and hide from these freakish journalists with their over-the-top clothing and monstrous body alterations that made them look like mutts, mutts that were grabbing at me, trying to gobble me up for breakfast. Nikola grabbed my hand and led me along, dodging pesky paparazzi looking to poke in some weird questions. Then they came. "Wiress! Tangent!" I turned and saw two young boys, one with a small camera and the other with a notebook and pen, squirming and squeezing their way past the adult journalists towards us. They were young, probably around thirteen or fourteen. The one with the notebook had short hair and tan skin. He was scrawny, with several sets of earrings. The other boy was bulkier, with sandy hair and sea blue eyes. He had a concentrated look on his young face as he fiddled with his camera whilst brushing past others to get to us. The pair blocked our paths. "Move it, kids," Nikola told them sternly, ready to push past them.
"Wait, please!" the boy with the notebook pleaded. "Just a couple of questions, and nothing weird, promise!"
"Yeah!" the camera boy agreed, nodding his head frantically. "Please, it took us so long to get here and I promised Pollux I'd get a picture with Gadget!"
Gadget frowned, blinking in a baffled manner. "Me?"
The boy nodded. "Yeah, you're his favourite Victor!"
"Let the kids have their questions, it's fine with me," Tangent said, shrugging nonchalantly as Gadget posed awkwardly with the camera boy. After the picture was taken, the other boy shook my hand. I flinched a little from the contact but his smile was warm, friendly, quite unlike everyone else's.
"Hi, Wiress. I'm Messalla and that's Castor." He pointed to the camera boy, who waved at us. "So, can we expect more smart acts from District Three this year?"
Tangent grinned. "Oh, heck yeah! Traps, gizmos, the whole stuff."
Messalla returned his grin. "That's brilliant! And do you need anything sponsored? Castor here and his brother Pollux love District Three, they can get you anything!"
"Some wires, please!" Tangent told him.
I thought for a moment. This was a golden opportunity to get our first sponsors! I had to think of something, something I would really need in the arena. I leaned over and whispered a couple of things in Messalla's ear, hoping Tangent couldn't hear and hijack my plans. He was from my District and all, but he still had to die for me to get back home to Uncle Gage. Messalla gave me a sly smile. "Oh, definitely! Thanks, you two, and before you go, I recommend trying out some of the Capitol's fish and chips! You'll love it!"
9 A.M. 09:00
Messalla was right. I loved the fish and chips! It was the first time I had ever had seafood since District Three was pretty far from District Four and imports from other Districts other than probably Two or Eleven were rare. The food here in the Capitol was simply divine, as if it had been sent down from heaven in white porcelain plates. Us Threes were used to a boring, meagre diet consisting of several scraps of bread and maybe some soup or vegetables tossed into the mix and sometimes some poultry if we were rich or just really lucky. But the Capitol's diet was completely different, comprising of grand dishes and carefully-made masterpieces of cookery. I just wished the common people of Three could have a chance to taste all of this. Then there was the Makeover Centre. Oh, god, that was a horrible experience. My stylist was Gennadios Bobblehead, who, owing to his surname, had a strong obsession with bobbleheads, especially bobblehead figurines of the Victors. He bragged about how he had a rare, limited edition Draco Hadley bobblehead, one that had been signed by the brutish Career Victor himself, proudly displayed in his living room. Like the Head Gamemaker this year, Celosia Flitwick, he was a newbie to the Games, and surprisingly young. He was eighteen, no older than the pairs from One, Two and Nine and only a year younger than Celosia, who had been involved in Hunger Games proceedings since she was ten, when she began drawing up official Games posters to display across Panem. Personally, I had always thrown those posters into the nearest forge, owing to how ridiculously horrid they were and how laughable the propaganda was. Gennadios and his prep team vowed to give me a complete makeover, something that didn't seem nice at the beginning, and definitely wasn't nice when they began tearing at my skin and hairs, aggressively scrubbing off every speck of dirt and dust off my body. "Ugh, this girl is a fashion disaster!" one of the members of my prep team, Pristina, complained as she waxed my legs, a painfully horrible experience. Then they told me to strip. That made me extremely uncomfortable. I had never stripped in front of anyone outside of my family before, but here I was standing before some crazy guys from the Capitol, being ordered to strip naked. The shame overwhelmed me like a huge wave as I removed my clothes. The room was so freezing cold! The air-conditioning howled, sending cold blasts of air smashing into my exposed body, making me shiver from the cold. Luckily, the prep team told me to get into a hot tub, which was so soothing and so nice. It was simply the most relaxing treatment I had ever received. And then I had to get out and the experience went downhill once more. Wrapped in only a thin robe, it was so cold! Gennadios encircled me like a vulture, peering at me carefully. I knew he was examining for blemishes, as he occasionally bent down and scrubbed something off my body, but still, I felt as though he was just some pervert staring at me. Thank goodness he didn't make any remarks otherwise I would have died of shame. And then came the Tribute Parade. District Three usually got ready pretty late, but this year, we were far from the last to arrive. As I stepped out of the room in my frankly ridiculous mechanical attire that made moving really hard and was so freaking hot inside, the boy from District One, Lucky, who, as it turned o it, was far from a lucky person, came running by in his thin robe, screaming and shouting in a fit of fury.
"What's up with him?" Tangent asked, emerging from his room in a similarly ridiculous mechanical suit.
"Lost his costume, apparently," Tangent's stylist, Lori replied in a nonchalant tone. Why couldn't she be my stylist? She seemed so casual, so nice, I would have loved to have her instead of Gennadios Bobblehead. Sadly, Tangent got her. Meanwhile, Lucky was still running around in circles, screaming and shouting at everyone in sight and starting a wild chase for the terrified boy from Twelve. Lori smirked cheekily as she reached into the huge bag she was carrying. I frowned. The bag was larger than the one Gennadios carried, but Tangent's outfit wasn't much bigger than mine. So what else could possibly be in there? I gasped as Lori showed me the inside of her bag, revealing a silk costume, the one that Lucky was supposed to wear.
"You-" I muttered.
Tangent laughed, clapping Lori on the back. "Good one, Lori! He'll never figure out it was you."
I shook my head. This year was a crazy year and little did I know, it was only going to get crazier.
10 A.M. 10:00
The training was tough, mostly because I didn't have many skills that I could improve on. I had to start from scratch. Tangent seemed to have some knowledge of traps, which was good for him. He did teach me some of those traps throughout the course of the training session, and I grew pretty good at making traps and snares. Now if I could get some electric appliances, these traps would be among the deadliest in the Games, although probably not as deadly as Beetee's traps. But learning how to make traps or even acing that edible plants test was far from the highlight of today's training. That title went to the huge brawl that took place first thing in the morning.
Lucky Montgomery really wasn't living up to his name. He wore the wrong attire to training courtesy of his stylist's horrific memory and received a faceful of apple cider due to the fact that Crystal Montgomery, the Victor girl from One, was a little clumsy. I almost felt bad for him as he sulked at the back of the pack, being on the receiving end of all their jokes. But then again, he voluntarily signed up for this. No way I was feeling bad for a monstrous Career boy like him. Lucky happened to be practising his already superior spear-throwing skills, when the boy from Nine approached him. "I want to have a go too," the icy-eyed boy told him quietly.
Lucky scoffed. "Why? You're just a pathetic Outlier." He pushed the boy backwards, as if to prove his point.
The boy, Jimmy, glared at him coldly. "Careful now, One."
Lucky smirked. "Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do, harvest me to death?" He raised his shin and smacked Jimmy right in the guts. The Peacekeepers surged forward but before they could respond, Jimmy had punched Lucky in the head, knocking him out cold. Both boys were dragged off to a separate room, with Jimmy kicking and screaming insults at Lucky as he was roughly dragged.
Tangent raised his eyebrows. "Whoa. Those kids sure are crazy, huh?"
I nodded. "Yeah, they're-" Shoot, I couldn't bring myself to say 'crazy'! I stared blankly ahead, trapped in my momentary dazed episode. Oh, why did this have to happen to me?
Tangent sighed. "Yep, we're gonna have to work on this whole 'spacing out' thing."
11 A.M. 11:00
The second day of training seemed uneventful at first, which was a relief since I spent most of it trying to evade the pack and simultaneously attempt to practice with a knife. I was deemed a generational disaster by the trainer, Vitus, who was so frustrated by my lack of skill that he threatened to chuck a knife at me if I didn't get away at that instant. I got the hint and instantly fled. Besides, the Careers were drawing near to the knives section, so at any rate, I wasn't planning on hanging around. I planned on joining Tangent at the fire starting station when, all of a sudden, the lights began to flicker. I scowled, glancing up at the ceiling. The lights on the ceiling were shaking wildly, swaying like loose branches in the wind. My eyes widened. Shit. This wasn't gonna end well if I stuck around! I bolted off as trainers and tributes alike began to scream. Behind me, I could hear loud thuds and glass crashing into a million pieces like a broken symphony as one by one, the lights began to topple to the ground, shattering and sending shards of glass flying into the air. Thankfully, I had run away from the scene, because not five seconds ago, I had been standing directly underneath the light that was shaking the wildest. Luckily, no one was hurt, except for Lucky who got a shard of glass in his arm but that was it. I heaved a sigh of relief as Tangent walked up to me, whistling nonchalantly as if the entire Tribute Centre hadn't just collapsed. "Well, that was wild."
Looking at the piles of rubble before me and the Peacekeepers scrambling to clear the area, I managed to mumble one word: "Understatement."
NOON, 12:00
I had thought that the crazy shit would end by the third day. But no, it just got even crazier. The Capitol had a spare replica of the Training Centre in a building just across from the Tribute Centre, where we trained on the third day of training and were due to have our private sessions in. Things went on decently well during the morning, but it was lunchtime's events that truly stole the show. I sat next to Tangent, as usual. He seemed pretty upbeat even though everyone else, including the Careers, were starting to get on edge. "I'm gonna die at any rate, so might as well die happy, right?" he said, grinning broadly as he took a big bite out of his apple. "I want you to win, Wiress. It'll be nice to get a Victor from Three this year. You can supply my family with some steady income for once."
I bit my lip. "And if I don't win?"
Tangent laughed, as if me not winning was some sort of hilarious joke. "Of course you're gonna win! I've predicted the Victors of the last ten Games accurately and I ain't expecting that streak to end this year!"
I smiled shakily at him, appreciating his confidence in me. But at the same time, I found it hard to believe that I could win. After all, I was just some poor mechanic girl from District Three who can't even speak properly and blanks out from time to time. The odds could not possibly be in my favour. Just then, Lucky passed by, carrying a tray on cream puffs. Tangent grinned cheekily at me. "Hey, Wiress. Watch this." He stuck out his foot, causing Lucky to topple over and dump the cream puffs right into Tangent's face, coating it with fresh, white cream. I let out a soft giggle, then stopped myself. Shoot. This was bad. Lucky was probably mad and...
"Hey, lucky boy!" Tangent gasped, feigning shock and anger. He glared at Lucky, who glared back, rubbing his sore foot. "How dare you dump those puffs on my gorgeous face?"
I groaned, putting my head in his hands. Gorgeous face? Was he trying to get beaten up? Lucky snarled. "Beat it, Three."
Tangent rolled his eyes. "Take this, One!" He grabbed a bowl of soup and dumped it over Lucky's head. He roared in rage, his shirt drenched with the aromatic soup and his body soaking wet.
"Food fight!" the girl from Eight shouted, grabbing a slice of cake and hurling it at me. I yelped as thick frosting and icing splattered across my uniform and crumbs entangled themselves in my hair. What the heck? A food fight? Oh gosh...
Within mere seconds the tributes began pelting each other with food, shouting and screaming insults at one another as they grabbed whatever pieces of food they could find and threw these makeshift missiles at the other kids, who giggled with glee as they returned fire. Even some of the Peacekeepers joined in, clearly owing to their more youthful side, tackling several of the tributes to the ground, handcuffing them, and squishing plates of apple pie on their faces as they shouted in protest. I scampered underneath the table, eager to stay out of this messy melee. I had been hit by several mayonnaise-coated fries and that cake from the weaver girl, but other than that, I was relatively unscathed. I shook my head in disbelief, observing the carnage of feet and flying food from my safe spot. What the heck was this? This really wasn't supposed to happen! This was the Hunger Games, it wasn't supposed to be fun! It wasn't supposed to be fun at all! But here we were, enjoying ourselves as we tossed food around. This was so weird, this wasn't supposed to happen. I thought I was dreaming, until the boy from District Four lifted the tablecloth and discovered me. He raised a piece of cake, grinning cruelly. I whimpered, closing my eyes and expecting the blow to come. "Eat this, Three!"
1 P.M. 13:00
"Deep breaths, Wiress," Nikola told me, giving me an encouraging smile before I headed off for my private sessions. "Don't be nervous. Just do your best, okay?"
I nodded slowly, my hands trembling like crazy as Tangent and I headed off to the backup Training Centre, a pair of bodyguards by our side, although I got the feeling that their job wasn't really to protect us, but rather to keep us from escaping. It was possible, escaping from the Games. Oakette Mason had done it in the First Games, but there was little to no chance that it could ever happen again. Once we arrived at the Training Centre, it was showtime. I could feel my heart thumping wildly against my chest as Lucky strutted in for his session, a confident smirk on his chiselled face as he proudly walked straight into the door, banging his face into the cold, hard metal. I stifled a giggle as he hollered in pain, vowing vengeance to the non-living and probably unimpressed door before he finally learned how to open it and enter the Training Centre. The other tributes went, never coming back. I had a weird fear that the Gamemakers had secretly conspired against us, killing us outright in the Training Centre and disposing of our bodies before calling in the next tribute. But they had never done that before. Then again, there was always a first. Snap out of it, Wiress, I scolded myself, my hands turning sweaty from the sheer panic I was experiencing. Then it was finally my turn. I gulped, tracing the bile as it went down my throat as I slowly made my way in, my legs wobbling like jelly.
The score of three I received soon after only caused a sudden but expected downpour of tears flowing down my face.
2 P.M. 14:00
I sat on the hovercraft, hugging m legs tightly, quietly humming to myself as the landscape of Panem whirled by underneath me, a myriad of colours appearing then vanishing just as quickly before my dull eyes. My arm still stung from where the Peacekeepers injected my tracker, but that barely bothered me. How could it, when I was about to die?
"No, Wiress," Uncle Gage's voice rang in my ears. "Come on, you can do this! You can win!" I gritted my teeth, peering at the six Careers, who were already discussing how to carve us apart in the most painful, most horrific way possible.
"Disembowel them, then stick a knife up their arse!" the boy from Two roared, a cruel, malicious sneer on his muscular face. Several of the younger tributes began to wail, already envisioning their painful ends. This only made the sadistic boy laugh even louder. "Then we rip their throats apart! And carve out all their teeth! And then stick spears into their bellies! Maximum pain achieved!" The other Careers roared in agreement, staring cruelly at the other tributes. I wondered, how could anyone, even a Career, be so brainwashed, so hellbent on striking fear and pain into poor, defenceless kids? It wasn't possible, surely there was no way they could be this awful? But then they began making crude gestures, imitating how their victims would die, and all hope I ever had for the Career tributes vanished into air, along with the odds of a District Three victory this year.
3 P.M. 15:00
Here it was, my final meal before I headed off into the arena, and potentially the last meal I would ever eat. It was a simple plate of fish and chips, the first dish Messalla had recommended I try out whilst in the Capitol. It sat on a clean, polished table before me, on a white porcelain plate, just waiting for me to take it and eat it. I did, but it tasted bitter in my mouth. I was so freaking nervous, I couldn't even eat without feeling ever so nauseous. And it didn't help that Gennadios Bobblehead was by my side through all this, babbling on and on about his extensive collection of President Snow bobbleheads and talking about all that useless gossip nonsense he had shared with Evander the other day. I couldn't care less about any of it, but I couldn't bring myself to protest against his words. I just sat there, uncomfortably eating, waiting for my undoubtedly painful end. Oh, this was going to truly suck, wasn't it?
I stood in my launch tube, my fingers trembling, my teeth chattering, my legs wobbling, all from the seemingly otherworldly tsunami of disquiet that had overwhelmed me, ripping me apart. Gennadios Bobblehead was gone from my sight, and surprisingly, this made me even more uncomfortable. As horrible a stylist he was, he was still the last person I saw who wouldn't be actively trying to kill me. Now that he was out of sight, everyone else I would see from this point on would have to die in one way or another.
"Calm down," I muttered to myself, and the memory of the old clock came to mind, a little odd, but hey, it was a memory of home. "Tick, tock, tick, tock..." Above me, I could see a bright light, shining a cool yellow, but it seemed artificial. As my pedestal clicked into place, I could see that the light came from a hanging lamp attached to a warm brown ceiling. That's when it hit me. A ceiling? What was this place? I looked around, a whirl of confusion clouding my mind as I found myself in the midst of a gigantic cafe. The Cornucopia was set in a room with pink wallpapers and was filled with the usual set of supplies, with the addition of spray bottles in the heart of the Cornucopia. But while those were probably important, my attention was drawn to the stack of wires and the lithium batteries, conveniently placed beside one spray bottle. My hands itched with anticipation. Nikola had warned me not to run in. But how could I possibly win otherwise? Everything was right there, just waiting for me to take them. I could hold the keys to my victory. All I needed was the sprint of a lifetime. My gaze lingered beyond the Cornucopia room, to the corridors draped in purple that stretched on and on for as far the eye could see. There were multiple rooms and staircase lobbies along these corridors, all of which would perfect hiding spots for tributes, I hoped. And then I heard something else. A faint 'meow', barely audible, but unmistakable. The other tributes must've heard the sound too, because everyone began looking around with big, bewildered eyes, murmuring about cats and mutts and stuff like that. Suddenly, the dream I had in the Reaping came to mind. Oh gosh. This wasn't any old cafe. This was a cat cafe! That explained the litter boxes, the small, chequered bean bags that were too small for tributes but perfect for smaller felines, the tiny shelves with tiny boxes filled with drawings of cats and little kittens, although I highly doubted the cats we would soon encounter would be anywhere near the cute little kittens in those drawings. A sinking realisation came to me. Those spray bottles, they could be used to fend off the cats! That must be their purpose, otherwise, I saw no reason for them to even be there to begin with. They were important, far more so than any wire or battery I could lay my hands on. With this newfound knowledge, I focused my attention on these vital little bottles, viewing the wires and batteries as secondary interests, ones I would only pursue if given the perfect opportunity. But I had to get my grubby little hands on those bottles. The gong rang and I was off, sprinting s fast as I could. I wasn't as fast as the boy from Four, who ran alongside me, but he was preoccupied with Jimmy, who had grabbed a sickle and was facing him off. I didn't stick around to see the outcome of that battle, I just ran straight for the bottles. Scooping a couple up, I glanced around. Tangent was wrestling the girl from Nine, blood oozing out of his nose as he punched her hard in the chest. Lucky loomed over the terrified boy from Twelve, his already bloodstained sword in his hands, ready to deal the final blow. Nobody paid any attention to the trembling, weak, grimy girl from Three, the one making a mad dash for the wires and batteries. I grabbed them and stuffed them in a mustard yellow backpack, the one which had a colour to match my arena coat. Deciding not to hang around for much longer, I bolted off. But before I could exit the Cornucopia room, however, I heard a faint whizzing sound. Shoot. Was that a spear? A knife? An arrow? I didn't take my chances. I dodged, ducking and swerving to my left as a knife sailed across the room, slicing the empty space where I had been standing not two seconds ago. Phew! That was close. I scooped up the knife. It was a free weapon, I couldn't say no to that. With one extra weapon in hand, I ran off into the corridors, into the unknown of the cat cafe arena.
4 P.M. 16:00
I found a room on the second floor, one that was thankfully feline-free at the moment. I had my knife ready, my spray bottle was ready for action, and the wire traps were set in the event of a cat attack or a tribute ambush. The first day had seen ten deaths, not including Tangent, thankfully. To my surprise, both Jimmy and Lucky had been killed in the opening Bloodbath. I knew Jimmy had gotten into a fight with the boy from Four, but I would never have expected the fifteen-year-old fisher boy, regardless of his Career status, to come out on top up against a strong, powerful wheat farmer with his gleaming golden sickle. As for Lucky, well, he was just plain unlucky, I guessed. I sat there, quietly humming to myself. So far, I had only spaced out once in the arena, and that was in the middle of what I supposed was night, as the lights were dimmed during that period and the cats went to sleep, but during that period, no one came around, thank goodness, so I was safe and sound. Until the cat hopped out of the closet, that is. A bright orange tabby cat, a little larger than the ordinary feline, donning a blue eyepatch and with singed whiskers, pushed the door of a wooden closet in the corner of my room, one I was absolutely certain had been empty only an hour before, and sauntered up to me, purring softly. I gulped. Shoot. How the heck had that cat gotten in here? Some Gamemaker trap? I took no chances and grabbed my spray bottle, aiming it at the cat, who tilted its head slightly, gazing quizzically at me. It raised a paw as if to wave hello. "S-stay away from-" I tried to stammer out, but in that one moment of urgency, something happened. I blanked out again! Shit, shit, shit! I stood there, frozen, watching helplessly as what I perceived to be a smirk began to form on the tabby cat's face. Gosh, I was so screwed! My lips began to quiver, my legs trembling like leaves, but I couldn't bring myself to move my fingers to spray the cat with the spray. It slowly approached, baring its fangs and hissing coldly at me as it encircled my feet, maintaining a deadly, murderous stare throughout its long, seemingly endless prowl. I just wanted it to end, for it to make that one, deadly charge and finish me off. The anticipation, the sheer dread and the inability to act on it, all of these things slowly gobbled me up, encapsulating me with a horrid fear. It took a step closer, its paw taking a heavy step on the wooden, scratched floor, as if relishing the moment. Big mistake. I snapped back to attention and pointed my spray bottle at it. The cat's eyes widened, and it opened its mouth to hiss at me, but I was quicker. With one, almighty push, I sprayed a white, watery powder straight into the feline's face. A couple of drops hit my hand, but there was no impact on contact with my skin. However, the same couldn't be said for the orange tabby cat, which quickly began to deteriorate, letting out loud, anguished hissing noises as it died. Just then, the closet began to rattle and I understood the message crystal clear. I had to be on the move soon.
5 P.M. 17:00
Lucky's misfortunes began to rub on me on the fifth day. I wandered around rather aimlessly, even though I was never lost. My mind might be messed up, but I still had a good memory. I practically had this whole place mapped out. I knew which rooms to avoid during feeding time, and which to avoid in the middle of the night. Now, all that I needed to do was to avoid getting killed by other tributes. I had lost my knife after a close encounter with a particularly savage feline, and my spray bottle was useless against tributes. That left me weaponless, if it weren't for my wires. I could just picture Caesar saying something along the lines of "Look, Wiress is using wires!" Haha, very funny. Nikola had managed to send in a pair of rubber gloves so I wouldn't be electrocuted by the buzzing, dripping wet wires, which I held firmly in my hands as I scampered about, cautious of tributes and other threats coming my way. But I certainly didn't see the Career pack coming. I had stopped for a second to take a sip of water. And then they came running towards me, charging like a ferocious horde of beasts with their spears and swords, murderous, barbaric looks upon their savage faces as cats ran alongside them, hissing threateningly at me. Oh gosh. For a moment, I thought that I would blank out, and that it was game over. But I didn't blank out. No, instead, I let out a guttural scream and charged straight at them. I had no idea what I was doing. I knew I was being stupid. I knew that I was going to die. At this point, I didn't care. I just wanted this to end! The Careers seemed stunned by my sudden burst of energy. The girl from Four even backed away a little. But I just kept on running, waving my wires at them, a concentrated look on my face for the first time in years. This was my chance to kill them. And I wasn't backing down now. Just a shame I had to blank out in the middle of my charge. My heart nearly stopped when my feet skidded to a halt, my mind clouding over as I tripped over and accidentally flung the wires straight at the oncoming Careers. The wires tumbled through the air, soaring and spinning like flying twisters. The Careers eyes widened, but it was too late for them. I could only watch numbly as one by one, the wires came into contact with their skin, and they collapsed to the ground, screaming and howling in extreme pain as their bodies shook about from the high voltage. The mere sight of this and the knowing that I had caused all this pain was simply too much. I fainted right there and then.
6 P.M. 18:00
Since I murdered the Careers, my mind wasn't exactly thinking straight. I no longer cared where I was going. I just stumbled about like a zombie, moaning and groaning as I hauled a fresh set of wires along, not quite sure of my next move. I must admit, I didn't exactly look very much like a potential Victor then, but I didn't really care about what the Capitol thought. At least three days had passed, but I had lost track of the time. What was it, day eight? Day ten? Day fifteen? I wasn't sure. The steady diet of cat food and milk from the pantries wasn't the best, especially compared to the diet of the average Capitolian, but again, I didn't care. I just ambled around like a lost puppy, hoping to find an end, whether good or bad, to my arena misadventure. Then he came into view. Tangent Tan, my good old District partner, his hair still as messy as usual, but without his smirk, he was unrecognisable. He wasn't even happy. No, he was screaming frantically, an arrow in his arm leaking out a sickly downpour of red blood as he ran from somebody else. The boy from District Ten, Dallas, the young goat farmer who had painted his face with the crayons in the drawers to look like a barbaric savage. He had clearly lost his mind as he ran at Tangent, ululating and waving about a stick sharpened at both ends, his shirt gone and his pants tattered and torn. "Wiress!" Tangent screamed, but I didn't recognise his voice. I just saw two tributes I needed to kill. I screamed at the top of my lungs and hurled my wires at both boys, who, in the heat of the moment, appeared to me as nothing more than two savage creatures, two felines I needed to exterminate. Boom. Boom. The cannons boomed, snapping my mind back to earth. Then I recognised him. Tangent. I had killed my own District partner. His final, stunned expression, forever immortalised on his face, would forever be a haunting ghost knocking on the door of my mind, screaming relentlessly, tormenting me all day and all night. And at that moment, I screamed too.
7 P.M. 19:00
They announced the Feast, but added that it wasn't mandatory to attend. There were only seven tributes left, and the days were passing quickly. Maybe the Gamemakers wanted the deaths to come quickly too. Still, I didn't want to risk it. Besides, I could hardly make myself get up from the fetal position I had crouched in the back of a closet in a room I had deemed to be safe. There was some caffeine in the closet, but I didn't dare to drink it. My mind wasn't thinking straight, I had run out of wires, and I was spacing out way too many times. Life was nightmarish in the arena, and whenever I heard even the faintest rustle, I would howl and scream, my voice sounding surprisingly animalistic, as I unleashed a flurry of sprays at what I hoped was just a cat. I couldn't do this anymore. Surely the Games had to end soon, right? But when nightfall came and only the girl from Eleven had died, after consuming some poisonous caffeine, I lost hope on a quick and easy Victory. Things weren't so simple after all.
8 P.M. 20:00
I didn't quite know what happened. All I heard was a loud rumble, and loud, otherworldly screeching noises. But I didn't dare to investigate. My heart thundered against my chest, threatening to burst my ribcage. Footsteps drew near. I raised my spray bottle, ready to defend myself. The footsteps came, inch by inch, and soon, a large, black shadow emerged on the walls. I could see a large head, like that of a colossal cat, with long, tusk-like whiskers and bat-like ears. Oh gosh. Was this some sort of mutt, one specifically designed to kill me? I heard a cannon boom in the distance. Shockwaves of fear rippled through me as the mutt's body came into view. It was large, greyish, with blood-red eyes. I didn't even question my next move. I certainly wasn't going to stick around and greet this deathly creature with open arms. I just ran, frantically spraying at the thing, whilst trying my best to look away as I zoomed off like a racecar. I caught a glimpse of its tail. It wasn't even a tail. It was a large, club-like metallic structure. "Just keep running," I muttered to myself as I zipped across the corridors. I thought I passed by a dead body of a tribute and a couple of half-eaten cat carcasses, but I didn't care. I just ran and ran and ran...
9 P.M. 21:00
Something else happened that day, but I didn't know what. I had collapsed, fainted, just as a loud flurry of screeching noises erupted behind me. My memory drew a blank, I couldn't even remember my dreams, I couldn't remember anything. I just remembered seeing three faces being projected onto the ceiling of the cat cafe, and my body being covered in cat fur. There was a tree tower in the distance, bathed in natural sunlight, or so I thought, and filled with some cats staring coldly at me, which freaked me out. Then, I passed out again.
10 P.M. 22:00
Oh, gosh, my body was so itchy! My vision was a complete and utter blur, my mind a complete and utter mess, but the horrific red boils that had erupted across my body simply refused to be ignored. And the fleas, oh the fleas! It was the cat fur, that was why I was itching so badly! And the worst part was, I couldn't even remember what had happened. All I knew was that there including me, there were three tributes left. As a cannon boomed, signalling that I was due to be in the finale, I simply lay on the ground, groaning and sobbing for the loss of mental sanity as my body howled in red, itchy fury, demanding to be taken care of. Was there really anything left to fight for at this point?
11 P.M. 23:00
There it was. The final cannon. It was probably the girl from Nine, but I wasn't too sure. I didn't even know how she died. The bigger question was, how on earth had I even won? I just stared blankly ahead as a team of me dressed in white approached me like mechanical ghosts, and I could have sworn I saw Cyborg's face among them. But I just stared there, my mind blanked out, as, in the distance, the fading sound of trumpets filled my ears, but brought no joy whatsoever. I remembered being carried into the hovercraft, where there was a shiny, futuristic-looking clock on the silver wall. Eleven o'clock. Midnight was approaching. It was time for a whole new nightmare of a cycle...
Katniss and Peeta had a much longer minute of silence for Wiress, lumps forming in their throats and tears welling up in their eyes as they remembered the fallen Victor who had figured out the secret of the arena long before anyone else had. "Goodbye, Wiress," Katniss whispered softly.
Peeta nodded, but didn't say anything else. He flipped the page, eager to move on. The next Victor was a slightly plump girl with long, raven-black hair tied together with multicoloured hairbands. She had brown eyes that looked fairly motherly and her hands were knobbly and wrinkled. She was rather short, and standing beside her tall escort did nothing to help her appearance. In her back pocket was a tiny rag doll covered in a layer of dust, with loose stitching and a woven cloth dress. "Calico Pepper."
VICTORS
District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25), Luxe Carmichael(36), Geneva Cooper(37), Cartier Cooper(44)
District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28), Julia Dawson(39), Brutus Gunn(42), Lyme Sveinsson(45)
District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24), Beetee Latier(40), Wiress Jansen(47)
District 4-Marina Bluebell(1), Mags Flanagan(11), Jolien Fisher(31), Timmy Fisher(32), Iris Fisher(33), Rafael Fisher(34), Coral Thiller(41)
District 5-Shocker Crimson(8), Switch Kim(19), Flash Morrison(27), Porter Tripp(38)
District 6-Ford Hamilton(20)
District 7-Hassan Greenwood(2), Jill Wilson(15), Olive Sanchez(26), Birch Davison(35)
District 8-Woof Casino(16)
District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29)
District 10-Ringo Alvarez(7), John Gatwick(23), Mare Trybull (43)
District 11-Orchid Bloom(12), Seeder Crue(30), Chaff Mitchell(46)
District 12-Axel Millar(3)
A/N: Ah, there we go! Wiress with her Victory! Hope you enjoyed this and if you did, please leave your review, every review really makes my day and makes me smile, and maybe submit a tribute for Blue Moon in the future? I'm really sorry for vanishing for a while, I've been having some personal issues lately that have totally obliterated my mental health, so yeah... But this isn't a pity me cry, this is just an explanation for what's been happening. Thank you to everyone who's helped me through this time, and that includes Marie464, Willuna, rubytree7, cartierscrown, ShunKazamis-Girl and optimisms for all interacting with me on Discord, and to MeTheFanatic19 and peachiebumblebee for your reviews! And to Birks44444, thanks for your PM, next up is a D8 Victor at last! Oh, and I changed the cover to Axel, who's holding that sock he threw to win, and he's in his arena setting! And so that's all for now, I won't bother ya'll with this A/N any further, so good morning/afternoon/evening/night and see you next time for Calico! Cheers:)